


friends don't kiss me like you do

by unsaidjulie (juggyjones)



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Valentine's Day, but also kind of established relationship, except not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29365644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juggyjones/pseuds/unsaidjulie
Summary: ‘Please,’ scoffs Flynn as Julie confesses her worries during a school lunch, during a slightly cooler February noon. ‘You and Luke have never been just friends.’‘Okay, maybe not just friends, but having a crush doesn’t count.’‘I’m pretty sure the term you’re looking for ismutual pining.’— in which a slight miscommunication issue causes julie and luke's undefined non-relationship (but also more-than-friends) status to finally get cleared, with a lot of talking to other people, some slow dancing, and definitely some valentine's day atmosphere.
Relationships: Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Comments: 23
Kudos: 201





	friends don't kiss me like you do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Phantom-Sunset (TheLovelyPatronus)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLovelyPatronus/gifts).



> it's almost valentine's day, folks! this fic is written for the lovely michelle, for the jatp secret valentine gift exchange. as per usual, title from ed sheeran's _friends_. also, while this takes place post-finale, i didn't want to deal with the whole plot thing or anything, so the boys are corporeal, she can touch them, and that's about all that matters.  
> enjoy this fluff, because it's rare coming from me x

When Luke kissed her for the first time, Julie didn’t know what to expect. It was sudden and sharp, everlasting and gentle, and she lost herself in his touch – in the sensation of _him_. It’s been almost two months, and every kiss since has felt the same; every whisper of his hand on the small of her back is an echo of that sensation.

Except, like everything good that comes Julie’s way, there’s a catch: they’re not really a… thing. To put it that way.

And for the past few days, there hasn’t been a single stolen kiss, a single hand guiding her somewhere, a single brushing of a phantom hair behind her ear. And Julie can’t really bring it up, or complain, because… Well, because they’re not a thing. Because they’re just _friends_.

‘ _Please_ ,’ scoffs Flynn as Julie confesses her worries during a school lunch, during a slightly cooler February noon. ‘You and Luke have never been just friends.’

‘Okay, maybe not _just_ friends, but having a crush doesn’t count.’

‘I’m pretty sure the term you’re looking for is _mutual pining_.’ Flynn bumps her with the shoulder. ‘Cheer up, girl. You’re smitten, he’s smitten, you’re just too scared.’

‘I don’t know if he’s smitten,’ Julie says. They walk into the park beside their high school and take a seat on one of the benches, her legs thrown over Flynn’s. ‘What if he regrets it?’

‘Julie.’

‘Hm?’

‘No one in their right mind would regret kissing you, or being more than friends with you.’

A smile graces Julie’s lips and she pats her friend’s thighs. ‘Thanks, Flynn.’

Flynn swats her hand away. ‘I’m being serious! Just talk it out with him.’

She thinks about it – she pictures herself walking up to the garage when they’re not expecting her, hoping that it’s just him, and then finding the courage to talk to him about something she finds difficult to pinpoint or describe even in her own mind, let alone _talk_ about.

She tilts her head, raising her eyebrows as she glances at Flynn. ‘Maybe I should write him a song.’

‘ _Julie_! Please don’t tell me you’re being serious,’ and then when Julie doesn’t say anything (but she feels the het rushing to her cheeks), exclaims, ‘No! You are _not_ doing the cheesiest thing in the world and writing him a song.’

‘Why not? I wrote _you_ a song.’

‘As flattering as that was, you said it was originally a poem, and became a song because the boys turned it into one.’

‘So?’

‘ _So_? It’s all about purpose and intent, girl. C’mon, we need to head back to school and you need to just get over it and talk to him.’

Despite Flynn’s words, they still say for a little while. They don’t talk about this anymore, because Flynn takes her mind off of it by talking about the cool new beats she recently got for sale at some niche webstore. Julie likes hearing about that kind of thing. It works in distracting her, anyway.

It’s only for a little while, though, because when they get back to class, it’s time to start composing, and Julie’s mind travels to the person she composes with the best. Her hand flies over the music sheet as she over at the task (they were given a lyrical prompt that has to be incorporated into what they’re creating, one way or another). It’s easy. Julie’s been writing more than ever before, and all because of…

She sometimes wonder what it is between them – how she would define it, if she had to. Most of the time, she likes that it’s easy and natural, that it’s been just an instinct from the very beginning. She likes to think that it’s just who they are – just Julie and Luke, who are gravitating towards one another. There’s no words to describe a connection like theirs.

(But words are good, she thinks. Words give meaning – they make sense of thing, make them universal, understandable.

She likes that they are indescribable, that she doesn’t have to overthink anything, but it’s only good while it’s good. It’s difficult now because she can’t even ask what’s wrong. Did she do something? Does he regret something? Is it about his parents, maybe? She wonders if they were _just_ friends, she would confront him about it.

Being indescribable complicates things.)

When she comes home, he’s in the garage, and so are the boys. ‘Hey,’ she greets. ‘Working on something new?’

‘Reworking some of our old songs,’ Reggie tells her. ‘The ones Bobby didn’t steal, anyway.’

‘Got something for me?’

There’s a beat, and then Alex says, from behind the drums, ‘Luke’s got the papers.’

Julie glances to the corner of the garage pretending as if that wasn’t the first place she looked. He’s standing there, hunched over the piano as he writes furiously, not even having noticed her walk into the garage. She clears his throat when she comes over.

‘World to Luke?’ she calls.

He looks at her and there’s a ghost of a smile that spreads over his face, until it falls. He pushes the paper he was working on towards her. ‘It’s not done yet. You should check the lyrics, and maybe some of the melodies. I tried writing for the piano, but…’

‘You suck at the piano parts.’ She smiles at him, as if to tell him that things are okay between them, but he doesn’t return it. She tries not to let it get to her as she glances over the paper, nodding to herself. ‘Yeah, I can work with that.’

Reggie cheers, and that seems to seal the deal. They spend the next few hours working on the song, messing around, figuring out the fine details. The boys—this being Reggie and Alex—try to talk her into incorporating some rock sounds and she concedes, even if only to appease Luke, who doesn’t say anything.

Julie leaves sooner than usual, using homework as an excuse. It’s easier to say that school’s getting on her nerves than that looking at one of her bandmates tugs at her heartstrings. It’s easier to pretend she doesn’t wish his hand would end up on her back every time he walks behind her, or that she doesn’t want to run her hands through his hair and plant a kiss on his cheek, feel him wrap her into his arms.

(She catches his eyes following her out of the room, but when he doesn’t say anything, she thinks that maybe it was the trick of light.)

‘It’s even worse than before,’ she says into the speaker, sprawled over her bed, Flynn on the other end of the line. ‘It was like he couldn’t even look me in the eye. What did I _do_?’

‘He’s a boy,’ Flynn states, as if that explains everything.

‘Okay?’

‘You know what I mean. Boys don’t understand anything. He’s probably just scared, or something.’

Julie scoffs, half-laughing. She’s resting on her hands, looking out of the window (hoping she catches a glance of him.) ‘Luke doesn’t _get_ scared.’

‘Please. Everybody gets scared.’

There’s a pause as both girls think about things, about the world, about whatever it is that they think about when they are silent. Julie misses him, that’s one thing she knows, and she’s worried about him, because he’s never been the one to restrict himself, or not wear his heart on his sleeve. Well, aside from the thing with his family, but that’s a different story.

(Yet he let her in on that one, too.)

‘I don’t know what to do,’ Julie admits, feeling herself deflate a little. ‘I miss him. Not just… It’s not just physical, you know? I miss writing with him. Having him around. Feeling like I can count on him.’

‘I know what you mean.’ Flynn ponders over her words; she hears cupboards opening and crunching noises. ‘Have you tried talking to Reggie and Alex?’

‘Are you eating crisps right now?’

‘Mhm, and an energy drink. Also, answer.’

‘I didn’t. I don’t know how to. It would mean I have to explain why… Why I’m asking.’

There’s a few more crunches, fizzling of a can opening, and then, ‘C’mon, Julie.’

Long story short: Flynn’s good with words, convincing, and assertive, so Julie finds herself walking down to the garage in her pj’s, later than she should be awake. She hasn’t quite thought about what she is going to say, so she’s biting her lip as she strolls into the garage.

It doesn’t make sense, but she has a feeling he’s not there. She has a feeling that the other two are.

She ends up being right.

‘Julie!’ says Alex, nearly falling off the couch at the sight of her. Reggie _does_ fall, but that’s mostly because Alex accidentally drags him down. ‘What are you— Why aren’t you asleep?’

‘I can’t sleep,’ she admits.

Julie sits on the couch and Reggie pulls himself up, placing a comforting arm around her shoulder. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Is it about Luke?’

Her gaze drops to Alex, a gasp half-stuck in her throat. She thinks about denying—there’s no chance he _knows,_ right?—but all it takes is the tired look in his eyes that tells her he’d catch her in the lie.

So she sighs, leans into Reggie, and says, ‘Yeah.’

‘Figures,’ says Reggie. ‘You guys have been weird for the past few days.’

‘It’s mostly Luke,’ Alex clarifies. ‘Julie, you’re like my sister, okay? But you and Luke aren’t as subtle as you think.’

Reggie snorts, rubbing her shoulder. ‘Not at all.’

‘Oh.’

‘Yeah. It’s fine, though, we fully support you guys.’

Alex clears his throat, then pats her knee, smiling a little. In this moment, she can’t imagine a world without them; a world where she doesn’t meet three boys who are ghosts from 1995. She can’t imagine a world without Alex, and his anxious clarity; Reggie, and his kind-hearted silliness; and Luke, and—

‘You guys are just being teenagers,’ Alex says. ‘You’re not meant to have everything figured out. Just… go with the flow. You know what feels right. Then just talk it out, and let us not have to deal with this, okay?’

‘When did _you_ become an expert in romance?’ asks Reggie, innocently, but the way Alex’s cheek blush even in the gentle light lets Julie know that things are going better and better for him and Willie.

‘Anyway,’ Alex says, rolling his eyes. ‘Just talk to him.’

‘What if he…’

‘Whatever you’re about to say, Julie,’ says Reggie, ‘I can tell you that you shouldn’t be worrying about that. We’ve all got _eyes_.’

‘Reg, dude, that sounds scary.’

‘Does it?’

‘Yeah. Like, don’t say it that way.’

‘How should I say it, then?’

‘Guys!’ Julie interjects, finding it hard to detach herself from Reggie – her eyes are starting to close. ‘So I just need to talk to him?’

‘Please,’ Alex says. ‘He’s even more stubborn than you.’

Reggie nods. ‘And I’ve had enough of his moping around and not wanting to talk about it.’

She promises to get it done. If not to get herself out of that situation, then for the boys, because they’re involved in this without asking to be. (She would do it anyway, but it’s different now. It’s making her think that what they’ve been doing has been _something_ for a while now.)

Julie goes to sleep with a single thought that isn’t a thought: Luke’s face, and the smile on it after he first kissed her.

She wakes up from a dream in which they talked, and things were fine, so she decides that the best course of action is no course of action. No planning. No overthinking.

Just like she knew he wouldn’t be in the garage last night, she now knows he would be, and walks in there in just her pj’s, ready to have a conversation.

She finds Luke at the piano.

‘We need to talk,’ she says. No greetings. No introductions. If she lets herself hesitate, it will never end.

He looks up and there’s a sliver of worry across his face, but he nods nonetheless, following her over to the couch. He’s looking good, she thinks as she sits across from him; he’s got the bedhead instead of hat-hair, and he’s wearing his cardigan, for once. He doesn’t look like the frontman of a rock band, but as an ordinary guy; and ordinary guy she is falling for.

‘Are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding me?’

Luke swallows loudly, fiddling with a loose string from the cardigan. ‘I’m not avoiding you.’

‘Okay, bad choice of words.’ Julie feels her hands getting colder; she’s scared and shaky and she doesn’t like that. ‘Why are you staying away from me? Did I do something wrong? Did I make you think I don’t want what— what we had going on?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ he says.

Julie’s heart drops to her stomach, and then into her feet, until it feels like she’s stomping on it. ‘Oh.’

It may be the hurt in her voice that prompts this, or something else, but something changes because realisation dawns over Luke’s face – it’s this cute little expression he’s got, with his eyes wide and eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape, rising at the corners.

‘Oh no. I think I got this all wrong,’ he says, shifting his legs underneath him. ‘I’m so sorry if I messed things up, Jules—’

‘Hold on, you’re talking mile a minute. What are you on about?’

He smiles—the big, open kind of smile that she hasn’t seen in days—and shakes his head, taking her hand in his. ‘I’m really sorry. Come back later, in the evening, okay? Just trust me on this.’

Julie feels herself frown. She’s about to ask yet again what he’s talking about, when he leans forward and presses his lips on hers, gentle and soft, smiling into the kiss alone. ‘I’ll make everything right,’ he whispers, ‘I promise.’

He poofs out, then, and Julie is left alone, confused to no end.

Flynn makes a spectacle out of it, when Julie comes over to hers. They already decided a few days ago to have a girls’ day, so they’re getting all pampered, complete with facemasks and Harry Styles and Taylor Swift playing in the background. Except Flynn makes a positive spectacle out of it – and surprise, it’s Valentine’s Day.

‘I didn’t even realise,’ admits Julie.

‘You love Valentine’s Day!’ Flynn is braiding her hair, fingers competent from all the years she’s been braiding her own hair, and the few classes she took. ‘I know you, Julie. How do you forget one of your favourite holidays?’

‘Because of Luke. I just couldn’t really think about anything else.’

‘And now he’s preparing you something for the holiday. Honestly, girl, you’re living the dream.’

‘I don’t think you’d call it a dream when I’m freaking out because I don’t know what’s happening. Which, by the way, I _still_ don’t,’ she says, heaving a sigh. ‘Besides, I don’t think he even knows what today is.’

‘Please,’ scoffs Flynn. ‘He knows what he’s doing. But you’ve got a good feeling about this, right?’

‘Yeah. I mean, he was apologising, and he kissed me, so I guess?’

‘C’mon, then. We need to get you looking _fire_.’

In the end, by the time Julie gets back home, the sun has fallen a while ago, and she’s looking a lot more pampered than she usually is. Not in the way of makeup, or anything – Flynn did her hair and ever since her mum died, Julie rarely wears her hair in braids. It’s kind of a special thing now. And she feels fresh, wearing a crop top Flynn lent her, and baggy trousers paired with sneakers that she adores.

(It’s not a romantic outfit, but Julie didn’t want to go for romantic. Or really dolled-up. If she’s going to be spending time with Luke, she wants it to be honest, to be _her_.)

She doesn’t go into the garage. She goes into her room, playing around with the ukulele, trying out some changes on the song the boys gave her yesterday. It’s about half an hour since she came back when Reggie poofs into her room, looking cheerful as ever.

‘Hey, Julie!’

‘What’s up?’

He grins, lighting up like a Christmas tree. ‘I heard a rumour that says you’re going to have a great time if you go down to the garage.’

Julie laughs. Some of the weight falls from her chest; a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. ‘Is that what he told you to say?’

‘Not really. He just told me to get you to the garage.’

‘Okay, then.’ Julie stands up from the bed, patting her trousers nervously. ‘Let’s see about those rumours, huh?’

Reggie walks over to her and pulls her into a hug; she’s still not quite used to being able to hug the boys, or them being so affectionate at any given possibility. ‘It’s going to be alright. You’re figuring it out. Just follow your heart. Even if your heart says puppies.’

‘Even then?’

‘Mhm. As long as you’re happy.’

Julie gives him a kiss on the cheek, and then he’s gone with a goodbye. She glances at herself in the mirror before deciding it doesn’t quite matter, and she sets out of the garage, every step feeling like it’s leading her towards a situation that will make or break… well, _everything_.

She can see the glow from inside the makeshift studio even before she enters. It’s a faint glow, and she thinks there’s no possible way it’s—

_Candles._

‘Hey, Jules.’

Luke is standing in the middle of the garage, hands firm behind his back, an unsure smile fluttering on his lips. Behind him is a coffee table with something on it, and it’s all surrounded by enough candles to be considered a safety hazard. Leonard Cohen is playing in the background, on her mum’s old gramophone, and Julie thinks she must be dreaming.

The doors close behind her and she steps further into the room, until she’s less than a foot away from him.

‘Did you…’

‘Yeah.’ Worry flashes over his face. ‘It’s not too much, right? If it’s too much—’

‘No,’ she whispers, ‘it’s perfect.’

It’s quiet for a moment; she lets the smile take over her face, warmth rising from her chest into her cheeks, and she lets herself feel all the giddiness that something like this would usually make her feel. His face relaxes, too, and his shoulders drop the anxiousness. It’s as if they’re conversing without speaking; a language of their own, one that only they understand.

Sometimes Julie forgets how well they know each other.

‘So,’ she says. ‘You’re not mad at me and regretting everything?’

Luke shakes his head, ferociously, as if he can’t even bear the mere thought of that. ‘I thought _you_ didn’t want that.’

‘Me? How did you even—’

‘You said to Flynn that you don’t know what’s happening, and that you don’t want that.’

She heaves another sigh, and her mind travels back to the conversation from two weeks ago – she’d been telling Flynn how much she feels herself being more than just friends with him, how much she _wants_ more, but doesn’t know how to approach it. She was saying that she doesn’t like the status quo, not that she doesn’t want _him_.

She giggles, then, and it fills the room as she closes the distance between them and wraps her arms around him, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. ‘I was meaning the exact opposite, Luke. Why did you just ask him?’ 

He pauses, and then his arms wrap around her, too, and he buries his head in the crook of her neck, cheek against cheek. ‘I didn’t know how to. It made more sense for you to want something else.’

‘I couldn’t. Not with you around,’ she says, and then catches herself realising how corny that is.

(She doesn’t regret it, because she means it.)

‘So you actually want us to be…’ He lets the question trail away, the unsaid words filling out the gap.

He’s letting her decide.

She brushes his hair with his fingers, rubbing his scalp gently, the way she knows he likes. Her eyes are staring into his – he’s got the most gorgeous eyes she’s ever seen. Full of love, of life, of passion, and it’s everything she’s ever wanted for him.

So she says, ‘More than friends.’

He nods. She can feel him heating up, body pressed against hers. ‘How much more?’

Julie giggles again. ‘Luke Patterson, are you asking me to ask you to ask me to be your girlfriend?’

‘I have no idea what you just said except the girlfriend part,’ he says, smiling nervously. ‘But I’d like that one, thank you.’

She throws her head back, groaning. His hands pull her at the middle, firm on her waist. When she looks back at him, he’s a little confused. ‘Are you saying this was all a big misunderstanding because we were just too scared of admitting that we want more and everybody was right?’

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘And who’s everybody?’

‘Everybody. Apparently we’re not as good as hiding things as we thought we were.’

He grins, and his thumbs circle on her waist. ‘Who said we were hiding?’

‘Please,’ scoffs Julie. ‘Don’t play macho. It doesn’t suit you.’

‘Okay.’ He leans his forehead against hers, swaying them in the rhythm. Her arms are curled around his neck and she likes that he smells like the wires of a guitar, and whatever is the scent of all the candles he’s lit up. ‘I’m taking that as a yes, by the way.’

‘Taking what?’

‘You’re my girlfriend, Jules.’

‘That wasn’t really a yes,’ she teases, ‘but yeah. I like the sound of that.’

‘Can I kiss my girlfriend, then?’

She smiles. ‘You can try.’

He kisses her and it’s gentle, but more open than before. It’s still natural, and earnest, and _him_ , but Julie feels the ease in it. There’s no more insecurity, confusion, the question of what is happening between them; she feels the safety as his arms rise on her back, wrapping around her as close as possible, his lips soft on her own.

When they part, she whispers, ‘I can’t believe we’re slow dancing.’

‘I am a man of many talents, Jules.’ The defensive way he says it makes her laugh and she smiles at her, twirling her around until she’s in his arms again. ‘I was going to write you a song, you know. To apologise.’

‘Really?’

‘Mhm. But then Alex said it’s the corniest thing to do for someone on Valentine’s day.’

‘So you decided to fill my entire garage with candles and ask me to be your girlfriend.’

He frowns, but she can see him blushing as he twirls her again, moving through space with ease. ‘When you put it like that, maybe writing you a song would’ve been less cheesy.’

She kisses him, briefly. ‘I like cheesy. I was actually going to write you a song, too, but Flynn said the same thing.’

‘Seriously?’

‘Mhm.’

He brushes his nose against her, lips brushing the corner of her mouth. ‘For next Valentine’s, we don’t ask anyone else for advice.’

Her hand touches the underside of his jaw, tracing the line. ‘Next time, we write songs.’

‘Yeah,’ he agrees, leaning their foreheads together as the song falls into a slower, gentler pace. Her eyes flutter close and she lets herself feel, safe in his arms, letting him take the lead. ‘Next time.’

 _Next time_ , Julie says in her mind, and it sounds like a promise of something permanent.


End file.
